


Sandcastles

by Aestheticdenbrough



Series: Oneshots [4]
Category: IT (1990), IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Stanley Uris Has OCD - Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, beach date, sandcastle, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 19:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15493134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aestheticdenbrough/pseuds/Aestheticdenbrough
Summary: Stan and Richie spend time at the beach together.





	Sandcastles

Richie swings his hands as he walks, a grin on his face, "Oy! Stanny boy! We betta hurry'up," he says in his terrible English accent. He kicks his flip flops off somewhere on the sandbar, feeling the sand between his toes, and immediately shaking some of it off. 

"Richie, we've got all day, I think we're fine, the weather is supposed to stay like this, we're not far from home, and you're probably going to get bored in like ten minutes," Stan teases, carrying their rainbow colored beach bag with them, "and you promised you'd put on sunscreen!" He shouts to the boy who's already several places ahead of him.

"I will! Eventually," Richie turns back as he says, walking backwards dramatically, kicking sand in Stan's direction and sticking his tongue out at his boyfriend, only to be met with his own self gagging on the crumbles of sand that inevitably made their way into his mouth.

Stan chuckles dryly, "You get what you deserve!" He jokes, his laugh almost reaching a maniacal cackle, his sense of humor rising up in Richie's presence.

Richie spits at the ground, pouting in Stan's direction, "Joke's on you! I meant to do that," he laughs awkwardly, running his hand through his hair, probably leaving even more sand remnants around himself already.

Stan shakes his head slowly and follows Richie down nearer to the water, it's a small beach, more of a sandbar honestly. Besides them it's completely empty, just as they like it. 

Stan lays out his towel, a navy blue and white striped one, his favorite for beach days (besides when the sand gets all over it, it looks too pristine for that). 

As soon as Stan gets the blanket straight, richie plops right on it, sand and all. "Sand's hot, just like you Stanny Boy," Richie comments, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Stan just rolls his eyes as he usually does, shoving Richie playfully with a grin he tries to hide. Before Richie, he was never a beach person, but this summer since they started dating they seem to spend a lot of time in the sand up by the water. Stan can see how people find it soothing.

Stan pulls the towel out from under Richie, "You got sand on it, gotta restart," he half teases. He shakes the towel around to get rid of all the sand Richie had brought to it. 

He spends another five minutes shaking it out and trying to place it "just so" again, Richie standing patiently, eyeing Stan with his usual heart eyes.

"Good?" Richie asks when Stan settles himself on the towel again. Stan has always expected Richie's impatience to get the best of him. Too impatient for Stan to get it "just so". Too impatient when Stan couldn't kiss him until they'd been dating for three weeks, or when he has to kiss him so many times before it feels right.

Stan nods simply as Richie sits cross legged next to him. He pulls out his bird book, knowing he maybe will see some today, though unlikely with the volume of Richie's voice even when he tries to use his "inside voice".

Richie lays across Stan, squinting as the sun hits his eyes. "You're really pretty, Stanny Boy," he comments, tracing his pointer finger down Stan's jaw. "Smart too," Richie adds, obviously in an affectionate mood- though his affectionate mood never seems to stop when he's calmed down.

Stan puts the book down, pushing Richie's hair off his face. "You're not so bad yourself. Need a haircut though," Stan teases, leaning down to peck Richie in the center of his forehead. He traces his own finger along Richie's cheekbones, "Your freckles are nice. You're smarter than they give you credit for," he adds, being, surprisingly, equally affectionate and loving.

Richie giggles awkwardly, used to being the bearer of the compliments and little ticklish kisses. Being the receiver is nearly unknown to him, but he has seldom experienced it in these rare moments completely alone with Stan. 

Stan bends down to cup Richie's jaw and peck his lips softly, "You should use chapstick more often, too," he teases, grabbing his own out of the beach bag. He pulls the cap off and carefully swipes the strong peppermint scent over Richie's lips, leaning down to kiss him again. "Much better."

Richie smiles comfortably, lacing his fingers with Stan's. "Can we build a sandcastle?" He asks with a big grin, seeing that Stan is definitely in one of his good moods, and maybe would even take part in the construction of it.

"Of course, trashmouth," Stan teases, sitting up. He pulls a pail out of the bag, "Got one since we failed so hard last time," he chuckles genuinely as he passes the thin red plastic to Richie.

Richie grins even further, his buck teeth showing in a way that makes Stan's chuckle continue, he needs braces, Wentworth tells him every day, though he just never seems to make an actual appointment. Stan prefers this over a metal-mouth anyways, he's come to love Richie's smile.

Richie goes about scooping sand into the pail with his hands, digging his fingers into the cool, wet sand with a concentrated smile. Stan watches, he loves the way Richie always gets so focused on the most random of things.

Stan wishes he had that skill, his brain is constantly refreshing with things he needs to do. Lock the door. Lock the door. Lock the door. _Did I lock the door?_ When he looks at Richie though, it calms to a low hum in the background. 

He sees Richie's serene expression. Kiss him. Kiss him. _Okay-_ he thinks to himself when his brain interrupts. He leans over swiftly and catches Richie's unexpecting lips in his mouth. Richie's eyes go wide with surprise for a moment before kissing him back, his hand tangling in Stan's curls- neater than his own.

Stan pushes Richie gently to the towel, straddled carefully over his hips as he deepens the kiss gently. He nibbles Richie's lip carefully, his hand on the arched small of Richie's back, the sandcastle seemingly forgotten in their moment together.


End file.
